Things Never Change
by StarsOfYaoi
Summary: *Hinted JiraOroTsu* Because Jiraiya is the one that realises how they are still a team, even if they've moved down different paths -after all, they have always been fighting against dragons.


**Edited: 20/03/2011**

**StarsOfYaoi:** Short, reflective piece about the three Sannin and their relationship with each other. Contains mild references to feelings between the three Sannin. It's in Jiraiya's perspective.

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**Rating**: T

**Summary:** (Gen–ish, Sannin-shipping) Realising the truth often implies having to accept that their present and future is sealed through their past.

**Warnings: **nothing, really.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto, it belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

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**Things Never Change**

**One–Shot**

Things never really change, and he knows it.

Things have a start, move onwards and have a conclusion.

Most ends are flashy and loud –going with a bang, as the saying goes, but not that one… sneaking away in the silence as not to be seen, heard, noticed.

Never believing in predetermined fate, Jiraiya had always looked forwards, fighting with life as if he were a knight against a roaring dragon, with a burning determination and bright eyes… but not all knights managed to save their princess, and when reality forced itself upon him, the knight watched his sword break, eyes growing dull, shoulders slumping.

Reality had the sound of glass shattering on the concrete.

With words that have no echo in his mind (_because they have no sound, and without sound they can't be heard unless he pays attention_), Jiraiya silently admits that if he has to be honest with himself, he knows he couldn't have prevented that ending, because no matter how much he deludes himself –he's not strong.

Not enough to make things go the way he wants them to.

Maybe it is the way he's grown up, or the way he's used to think, because what he thought as impossible is easily managed by the newest generations, and maybe it's truly his age coming up, but…

But maybe it's simply that he's given up, and that's what makes the difference.

At start, there were three.

They were different, they couldn't speak to each other once without fighting, and still, they were a team, they grew up together, and became great. So great that others bowed to them, acknowledging their skills. They were respected for their power.

Was this strength?

Maybe he'd been strong before, but that strength was gone now, washed away by his guilt, because he prided himself on his strength and then, when things turned rough, he gave up, deciding he couldn't do it, deciding it _wasn't worth it_…

Weak.

Physically strong, but his will was weak. Truth was, he was weak, and that was it.

But now… now, he could delude himself he had a consolation, albeit small.

In the end, no matter which road in life they had walked on, no matter the direction they had taken –they were human.

Humans could fail –their actions could be important or useless, they could try over and over, but humans were allowed to fail, and all of them had failed in their own way.

With every step they took, the three of them had to face choices and new paths, and eventually, their lives had brought them together once again.

And Jiraiya had been allowed to see the truth –of the three of them, not one had their dreams realised, their wishes accomplished. At the dawn of their lives, none was satisfied.

For hours at night, Jiraiya let his thoughts wander. For the first time in his long, pained life, the toad Sennin took some time to reflect upon his life without joking, without masking the truth behind layers and layers of lies and delusions, and what he saw, in its true, brutal form, was the raw truth.

Eyes that had seen so much in life stared upwards at the starry sky above, the dark blanket of the night covering his world, and he let himself remember.

Remember what he once was –the happy, cheerful youth running everywhere, never appeased, never sated, always wanting more, always demanding more.

What was left of that youth now?

Jiraiya mourned for the child in him that had died so early.

There were three.

Their past was what made them. Nothing like fate, of course –they were too old and too rough to believe in fate.

It was simply the obvious end, as they only received what they deserved –they had brought their end upon themselves with their selfish desires.

A person could shape their own future with their actions and decisions, and the three of them –three Sannin, three shinobi, ultimately one and one and one– had been able to collect the results only when it was too late to change.

What is power when you have no one to share it with? Shallow.

What is life when everyone you cared for was gone? **Lost**.

What is eternity if you gave your own soul to the darkness? _Void_.

They had never been a team. They had grown great by themselves. Alone. Not as a group, not as a trio, but as _individuals_.

Jiraiya had deluded himself into thinking he could be able to forget about his once friends, ignoring both as they moved away, never turning back, never caring as their paths brought them further away from him.

What a scam –and there they were, with people believing they had accomplished their dreams, envying them; he was respected because of his strength and wisdom (_words that meant nothing to him, because he knew the truth, and the truth was deathly silent_).

**She** was respected because she was the best Medic–nin in the whole shinobi world, with a strength to be reckoned with, unreachable, beautiful and untouchable (_when in truth she was a wreck unable to let the past go, wrapped up in pain_).

He was feared because he'd moved down a path of greatness, gaining a twisted immortality at apparently no price (_but alone, slithering in darkness, unable to look at a mirror and see his own face reflected in it_).

But Jiraiya knows better, and only now is he able to say this.

_They are all alone._

There was a time when they had been young and uncorrupted and the world opened in front of them like a blossoming flower, and they were knights facing their dragons with a smile and a wooden sword.

Then the sword turned out to be too heavy, and it wasn't really wood but metal, and it cut through their own skin, and their dreams weren't as beautiful and alluring as they had seemed to them.

They couldn't reach their dreams, no matter how far they stretched their fingers.

Reality tasted bitter and echoed like glass crushed under a shoe, with the face of a young promising blond man who died against a fox demon, a little brother with childish innocent dreams, a young man seasoned by war that could have been a lover, an old teacher with warm eyes and a gentle smile.

Lost and gone forever.

In another life, in another world, in another time, maybe they could have had happiness.

Not here. Not now. Not then.

Shadows were too long now. It was too late.

In his mind, Jiraiya is surprised to realise that to him, the three of them is still an '_**us**_'.

They are separate, distant, broken, alone –and yet, he still thinks of them as a team –it almost makes him snort. It's almost amusing, _almost_.

Does he care? Maybe he's really going senile, who knows.

He's lost himself, once. Living like a shadow, mourning for a death that was just as much his fault as it was his damnation. Drinking to forget, writing useless shit and creating a mask for the world to see, to show that he was still alive and unaffected whilst he was dead and he knew it.

Unable to confront his past. His fears. His pain.

**She** has lost herself once as well, in a vicious circle that made her run from country to country to escape any kind of bond or root or anchor. Courting the same bad luck that she blamed her losses on.

Closing her heart away, and locking it tightly.

_He_ had locked his soul in a dark place, in exchange for an endless night, unable to see light ever again, turning his back to everybody so that he wouldn't see them when they betrayed him. _He_ lost himself first, and nobody realised it until it was too late to help him come back.

They were all lost. They were the same. Hurting and denying themselves the chance to heal.

Knights in a shiny armour that was now dirty and caked with dried blood and lost hopes.

Broken swords and claw marks all over their bodies from dragons too strong to tame and kill.

Is there something left?

At first, Jiraiya was sure of the answer, and it wasn't positive.

But then, his life suddenly spun out of control (_the feeble, fake control he thought he had_), and he was forced to face all his inner demons –a huge, three-headed dragon with claws of steel, breath of fire and eyes of gold.

No way out, Jiraiya had to fight it bare handed, and through this battle, he had changed.

If he could see it, he was sure the other two could, just as well; because the similarities are striking, because Naruto has teammates he cares for and the three of them are a mirror of the past –he can see himself in them, can see his team as it once was, with the world full of offers and delights.

Jiraiya can't run away from his dragon no more. He can cry and deny and cover himself up with a shadow to live in his place, but there is no place to run or hide anymore.

It is time for life to collect the debts.

It is time to pay the price.

Because a pair of blue eyes that sparkled with light and mischief are also burning with determination, and in those blue eyes, Jiraiya found a new, shiny sword and a new polished armour.

Because in those same eyes Tsunade saw herself, and what she saw made her stand back up to face her dragon.

Because those eyes were a reflection of something Orochimaru had been denied in his life, and it was enough for him to react and calculate and want to fight, as well, though the darkness coiling around his heart was enough to make everything more twisted than it was.

He was reminded of having been a kid, once.

**She** was reminded that she could love again.

_He_ was reminded that power is granted to those who believe.

Jiraiya is weak, because he loved them both (_still does_) but couldn't hold them in his grasp. His chance is gone.

Tsunade is weak, because he refused to admit of loving them, and doing so pushed them away.

Her chance is gone.

Orochimaru is weak, and he mourns. Because that blackened soul can still mourn for a love that isn't possible, but that once was.

The threads were all connected to a single tied knot –a boy with blue eyes and blond hair and an inner dragon way bigger than theirs.

Naruto wasn't standing alone, and he wasn't waiting for others to fight his battles.

Jiraiya knows that his mask is crumbling, but he finds himself uncaring.

Does it even matter anymore?

It's light –he can care for someone else again, because he's weak, but he's strong because of that.

It's **hope** –her promise is still standing. She can make it work again, and she won't make a mistake again.

It's _damnation_, because he's tempted but he won't allow himself the chance.

And through all they've gone through, moving down different paths, walking through pain and denial and hatred and redemption, they are brought together, and the truth is only one.

In a twisted, unholy, blind, forgotten way, Jiraiya knows they are a team.

A three–man team.

Tied together by something stronger than fate, stronger than power, stronger than desire.

Things never change, and even if they didn't know it back then, they were a team –still are. It won't change, no matter where they are, no matter what they do.

In a way, it's like love.

_**Evil, lost, forgotten, forbidden, blind, crying, empty.**_

They lived together, loved together, suffered together, and through different paths, learned together, and in the end, they will die together, even if they are not.

Because they are three and one.

They are Sannin.

The day they fall, there will be no dragon left.

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**StarsOfYaoi:** end. What do you think about it? Please, drop me a comment!


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